


Thinking All the Time

by ant5b



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, LP is smarter than he looks, M/M, Post-Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 01:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ant5b/pseuds/ant5b
Summary: Fenton has some work to do when it comes to emphasizing the “secret” in secret identity.





	Thinking All the Time

Fenton hesitated at the sight of the massive gaping hole in the garage door, before carefully knocking on an intact piece of aluminum. 

“Launchpad? You in here?” he called, poking his head through the hole. 

The busted limousine was parked just in front of him, looking a little better than it had a few days ago. Fenton could hear clanging sounds coming from beneath it, and while there was no red-haired driver in sight, he hedged his bets and entered the garage proper.

It was obvious that Launchpad lived here, even if Mr. McDuck’s intimidating housekeeper hadn’t just informed him of that fact. 

There were drooping maps and posters on the walls, a dingy couch and a fridge with magnet letters on it spelling out “LAUNCHPAD S PAD”. Above him was a wooden loft strung with fairy lights, where he could see a hammock had been strung up. 

“Launchpad?” Fenton said again as he edged around the side of the limo. 

There was a loud clang and a louder, meatier thud, followed by a startled, “ _ Ow! _ ”

Fenton quickly rounded the limo’s front bumper to find Launchpad laid out on a creeper with a toolbox beside him, wearing a pair of headphones that seemed held together by duct tape. He was rubbing his swiftly reddening forehead with a bewildered expression. That only lasted until he laid eyes on Fenton. 

“Hey, Gizmoduck!” he exclaimed too loudly. 

Fenton winced, but offered a hand to help Launchpad up. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you, Launchpad,” he started to apologize, as Launchpad lowered his headphones so they hung around his neck. “I wasn’t even going to stop by, but _ —” _

“Don’t even worry about it,” Launchpad chuckled, “I’ve got a hard head. Besides, it was my fault for having the volume up too high.”

“What were you listening you?” Fenton asked, partly curious but mostly trying to stall. After all, he hadn’t just stumbled upon Mr. McDuck’s private garage/Launchpad’s bachelor pad. 

Launchpad seemed to hesitate for a moment, and he turned away to pick up his toolbox and set it on a nearby bench. 

“Uh...language lessons!” He replied cheerily, “I’m trying to learn Portuguese.”

Fenton was taken aback for a moment. He felt a twinge of guilt at this, but Launchpad spared him his anxious rambling. 

“So what brings you to my neck of the woods?” he asked, retrieving a jack and a spare tire from a corner of the garage. 

“Oh, um, right!” Fenton said, watching Launchpad set the tire down and jack up the limo. “Well we, that is, Dr. Gearloose and I, stopped by to talk to Mr. McDuck about his progress on the monorail, and I was thinking, well Dr. Gearloose was thinking — and I agree! —that I should talk to you about the nature of the robotic marvel that he’s allowing me to idiot proof—test drive!—and by that I mean its secretive nature, in regards to your discretion on the matter of my actually being—”

“Whoa whoa!” Launchpad was waving a hand in the air, still crouched beside the limo. He looked amused, and a little worried. “Relax, buddy! I get what you’re trying to say. More or less.” His smile was startlingly genuine—Fenton attributed this to having barely seen it during their tumultuous first meeting. “The whole Gizmo thing’s a secret then?”

Fenton felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in three days, and he slumped a little against the limo’s dented bumper. “Yeah? Yes!  _ Yes _ , it’s a secret. A very poorly kept one, but a secret nonetheless.” 

Launchpad actually looked a little chagrined as he began unscrewing the lug nuts of the tire beside him. “Sorry if I made you think I’d spill the beans,” he said, “I just figured, seeing how Dr. G designed the suit, that he knew you were inside it.”

Fenton chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “That he did. And I see you’ve stopped insisting I’m a cyborg of some kind?”

“I may watch too much TV,” Launchpad admitted, replacing the limo’s tire. “But can you blame me for thinking you were a robot? Crazier things have happened.”

Launchpad’s smile was a little wry, and something warm blossomed in Fenton’s chest. 

“That they have,” Fenton said. “Most of them just the other day.”

He watched Launchpad tighten the lug nuts on the tire, fiddling with his hands. He’d done what he set out to do; find Launchpad and contain the leak regarding Project Blatherskite. But something compelled him to stay, something paired with the warmth that he hadn’t realized he’d started associating with Launchpad. 

“Do you need help?” Fenton blurted before he could think better of it. 

Launchpad looked back up at him, brows raised in surprise, and Fenton let his beak run away from him for a moment. 

“With the limo, I mean. I can’t help feeling responsible, since I’m the reason Beaks got his hands on Bulb Tech in the first place.”

Fenton shut his beak with a clack before he could begin to ramble again, but Launchpad was beaming at him, which put him at ease. 

“Hey, I’d appreciate the help!” Launchpad said, using the jack to lower the limousine. “I haven’t been able to fix as much as I’d like, since I had to fly Mr. McDee to Beirut to check on some dig of his.”

“What still needs doing?” Fenton asked, talking a step back and closer to Launchpad’s side. 

Launchpad considered the dinged up limousine as he tightened the tire’s lug nuts one more time. He was putting more force into it than before, and Fenton was momentarily distracted by the way his shoulders strained against his t-shirt. 

“Well I’ve already taken care of the door,” Launchpad said, startling Fenton. 

He fought to tamp down the flush that raced under his feathers and actually listen to what Launchpad was saying.  

“And this is the last tire that needed replacing,” he said, tightening the last lug nut. “But I’ve still gotta replace some fuel lines and the drive shaft. Do you think you could take a look at the transmission?”

Fenton’s eyes were wide as he looked over the limo. “I didn’t realize it had sustained this much damage. It’s amazing that you were able to drive it at all!”

“Well, crashing  _ is  _ my specialty,” Launchpad replied. He stood up and slide another creeper over to Fenton, retrieving his toolbox again. 

Fenton grabbed a wrench and laid down eagerly on the creeper, ducking underneath the limousine with a small kick. 

Launchpad returned his creeper beneath the limo’s front bumper, leaving him perpendicular with Fenton. 

“Have you talked to Dewey yet?” Launchpad asked after a few moments of comfortable quiet. 

Distracted by the familiar, mindless work, Fenton nearly dropped his wrench on his face when Launchpad broke the silence. 

“Oh, y-yeah! I stopped at the...the manion first,” Fenton replied, only a little in disbelief over the words coming out of his beak. “Dewey was more than happy to keep my, ah, ‘secret identity secret’.”

“I might’ve gotten him on a bit of a superhero kick,” Launchpad admitted with a laugh. “Did you meet any of the other kids?”

“I didn’t realize there were four of them!” Fenton said, laughing a bit himself. “They ganged up on me, all of them asking questions about Gizmoduck.”

“Did you give in?” Launchpad asked, and Fenton could hear the grin in his voice. 

“Their interrogation skills were a bit lacking,” Fenton said. “Huey—the red one?—made me some tea. Said I looked stressed.”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing.”

“Ha ha.”

“I’m serious,” Launchpad said on a chuckle. “You could use a break. And I wanted to thank you for the help, anyway.”

“But I’ve barely started,” Fenton pointed out. 

“When you’re done then,” Launchpad replied, but while it sounded like gentle ribbing on the surface, Fenton detected an undercurrent of nervousness suffusing the pilot’s voice. 

Launchpad cleared his throat. “I was thinking, afterwards we could just, y’know, hang out. If you wanted to! I was just gonna watch some old reruns, and um...you’re welcome to join.”

Fenton looked over at Launchpad as best as he could from underneath the limousine. The pilot’s hands were poised over the drive shaft with a wrench, but they were completely still. He could see Launchpad staring at the limo’s undercarriage wide eyes and a tense expression. 

That warm feeling returned to Fenton’s chest, making him feel light. 

“Those reruns wouldn’t feature a certain masked avenger, would they?” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System was everything I could've wanted and more, never have I been more excited for an episode of a cartoon.   
> I hope I did these characters justice! If you enjoyed this fic, be sure to check out the rest of my DT works.


End file.
